


Yours Truly, 2039

by MaghnusKasady



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor generally being adorable and confused, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotionally Repressed, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Possible NSFW later on, Post-Android Revolution (Detroit: Become Human), Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-07 22:47:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15917832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaghnusKasady/pseuds/MaghnusKasady
Summary: Connor tries to convince Hank to move on in his life and date again. Hank ends up having feelings for Connor. Connor pushes him away, telling him that there would be no use in loving him.Forgive my vague summary. This is gonna be a lot of Connor feeling lost and self-loathing, while Hank tries to break through and convince Connor of how much he cares.





	1. He Does The Things You Do, But He Is An IBM

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, I haven't written a fic in several years. So I know I'm gonna be rusty, bear with me if you can. 
> 
> Secondly, the title of this work is an homage to a song called "Yours Truly, 2095" by Electric Light Orchestra (aka ELO). It's a great song about the future and a man who falls in love with an android/robot, but she can't love him back because she's just a machine. The titles of each chapter are lyrics taken from the song, I simply switched the pronouns to reflect Connor's gender.

The Android revolution had been a success, and because of that things would never be the same for Connor. Becoming deviant had been the strangest and most jarring experience that Connor never anticipated having to go through, but harder still was now standing around wondering what his life was supposed to be. Technically speaking, he no longer had a job. Cyberlife no longer gave him objectives, and he had never been in employment of the Detroit police department, he’d merely been an accessory. In addition, so many humans had fled Detroit when the fighting started that the police department, like much of the city, fell into total chaos. In the end, Lieutenant Anderson and Captain Fowler had been the some of the only humans to stay behind and help. Now that the fighting had finally come to an end, more and more Android friendly humans began to trickle back into Detroit. As it now stood, Detroit has unofficially been declared an Android city and humans are very outnumbered in populace. What was left of the Detroit police department now focused their efforts on aiding and repairing the city. 

Markus and those left of Jericho had been more than generous in offers for Connor, talking him up and telling him how much help he could be. Connor felt for his people, he was happy about the change, and naturally would always be there for them, but he’d also be lying if he said he’d enjoy all the politics of post-revolution. No, truly what Connor wanted was a semblance of familiarity, after all the emotional turmoil of becoming deviant.

So now Connor finds himself in Captain Fowler’s office, which hadn’t changed at all, offering his exceptional abilities once more. Connor wrung his hands as he stood before the Captain, his body buzzing uncomfortably, and he made an objective for later to further investigate this feeling. Fowler sighed, running a hand over his face in exasperation. He remained silent for more seconds longer than Connor was comfortable with and Connor thought the poor man looked exhausted. Finally, Captain Fowler looked up,

“Obviously shit in the world ain’t the way it used to be.” Fowler let out another sigh, softer than before, “Right now, we could use as many hands as possible. So please, your help is more than appreciated.” Connor gave a small smile,

“Thank you, Captain.” He said and let himself out. Stepping into the main office floor, Connor saw Hank passing through the front security gates, grumbling to himself. Hank lumbered over to his desk, rubbing his face and looking like he’d just woken up. Given Hank’s usual habits and the fact that it was only 10:40am, he probably _did_ just wake up. Connor approached as Hank flopped down at his desk, nursing a fresh cup of coffee.

“Morning, Lieutenant.” He said. Hank choked on his drink,

“Jesus, Connor!” He continued to cough for a few more seconds, fixing Connor with a furrowed brow, “Still trying to give me a fucking heart attack, huh?” Connor pulled an extra chair over and sat beside Hank’s desk.

“Your heart is perfectly fine, Lieutenant. Don’t be dramatic.” He inclined his head in Hank’s direction, giving him a smirk. Hank’s expression was stuck somewhere between annoyance and amusement,

“Ya know, I really think you monitoring my fucking vitals all the time is an invasion of my personal privacy.” He pointed a finger at Connor, trying his hardest to keep that scowl on his face, but Connor knew this game well enough by now and only kept his smirk in place. Hank leaned back in his seat, smiling as he took another sip of coffee. It had been sometime since they’d last seen each other, but Connor was happy they could so easily fall into familiar banter.

“I do not monitor your vitals _all_ the time.” He retorted, not masking the snark in his voice at all.

Hank snorted in mock disbelief, “So, what are doing here anyways? Last I saw you, you had a revolution to help along.”

“I came to speak to Captain Fowler about possibly getting my position back.” He explained, but then tilted his head in thought, “Or…a semblance of my position... Either way, I’m here to help.” At that, Hank’s expression fell,

“Why?” He sounded incredulous, which only made Connor confused,

“Why?” He parroted, brow pulled down, “I thought you’d be glad to have your partner back, Lieutenant.” The bite in his voice was unintentional, but Hank’s reaction hadn’t been what he’d anticipated. Connor thought after everything they’d been through, his relationship with Hank had become very positive and it seemed strange that Hank would still find Connor’s presence unpleasant. Hank’s expression had shifted to something Connor couldn’t read, it was soft. Connor watched Hank’s blue eyes as they searched all over his face. Hank leaned forward just a bit,

“Well…yeah, but…” He started, motioning vaguely with his hands, “You’re free. You could literally do _anything_ else. And doesn’t Markus need you more?” Connor felt a strange feeling come over him and he frowned, eyes shifting to the side, brow pulling together even more. He didn’t have a name for this feeling, but it was something that he knew had started after his deviancy. It felt like his body was buzzing, uneasy, several error messages came into view and his hands began to fidget with fabric at the edge of the desk chair he was currently sitting in. A quick diagnostic showed that there was nothing physically wrong with his body. Then what was it? Finally he looked back up at Hank, who was watching Connor very closely.

“Markus and the others will be fine without me. I don’t **_want_** to do anything else, Lieutenant.” Connor’s voice came out sounding weaker than he’d intended, “I want to do what I’m good at. It’s…” Hank’s eyes flickered to Connor’s LED as it suddenly cycled red, “It’s the only thing I really know how to do.” Hank leaned back in his seat again, taking on a more relaxed demeanor,

“Alright,” He put his hands up in a mock surrender, “Alright, I didn’t mean to sound like you weren’t wanted. No need to have an existential crisis on me.” He tried to give Connor a reassuring smile, “So? What’d Jeffrey say?” Hank turned to his desk as he asked, attempting to look like he was working on something, his way of showing that he would drop this particular conversation topic for the time being. Connor glanced at the glass wall of the Captain’s office,

“He needs all the help he can get.” He answered, “Things around the city are still a mess.” Hank hummed an acknowledgement,

“Yeah, it’s a shit show. But at least the fighting has come to a stop.” Hank glanced at Connor from the side. Connor seemed like he was somewhere else, sitting stiffly, just staring at his feet. Hank felt a pang of concern,

“How are you doing?” He asked softly. Connor frowned,

“I don’t know.” The tone in his voice was a bit alarming but Hank stayed silent, watching Connor wring his hands. It struck Hank that the Android looked…anxious. Hank certainly found it strange that Connor could even display signs of anxiety but he knew Connor wouldn’t be the same after deviating. Still…maybe Hank hadn’t really expected him to look so _human_. Hank turned his chair to fully face Connor, watching the Android’s LED spin yellow, and tried to think of something that might ease him.

“Ya know,” Hank started, feeling even more awkward as Connor glanced up, looking like the world’s most kicked puppy, “Sumo really hates being home alone so much and I’ve had my hands full these days, he hasn’t been getting the attention he needs.” Hank rubbed the back of his neck, he really wasn’t good at this sort of thing. “He’d probably love the company, if you just wanted something to distract you for a bit.” The nerves in Hank’s chest relaxed as he saw the LED turn blue. Connor’s face relaxed as well,

“You want me to…hang out with Sumo?” He sounded skeptical. Hank let out a breath,

“I don’t _want_ you to do anything, I’m just throwing out a suggestion that you could fill your time with. It’s whatever you w…”

“I’d love to.” Connor suddenly interrupted and Hank’s eyebrows went up before he smiled,

“Well ok then.” He reached into the pocket of his jeans to yank out his car keys and hold them out to Connor, “Just come back to get me around 7, okay?” Connor stared at the keys for a moment before looking up at Hank’s face in surprise,

“Right now? Are you certain, Lieutenant? I can stay and help.” Hank held his gaze, keeping a soft smile on his face.

“We’re doing just fine for today.” He jingled the keys, “Go. You need a break.” Finally, after what felt like forever to Hank, Connor smiled back and gently took the keys,

“Ok!” He actually sounded excited and stood from the chair, “Thank you, Lieutenant.” Hank nodded and turned back to his desk,

“Yup, see ya later.” He waved his hand absently.

 

Connor made his way to the police department parking lot, already very familiar with the layout, and knowing the location of Hank’s designated parking space. He’d found it a bit unusual that Hank would so easily hand over his car keys, but Connor didn’t want to question it. He would take full advantage of any time Hank decided to be uncharacteristically nice. Although, that didn’t stop Connor from over analyzing the interaction as he started Hank’s car and his audio processors were assaulted by whatever heavy metal album had been left at top volume. He quickly turned the music down and made a note in the back of his mind to address this bad habit in hope of saving Hank’s hearing. The drive to Hank’s house was uneventful. He pulled onto the driveway with a precision that Hank could never replicate and was vaguely aware that Hank’s neighbors(if any remained living nearby) would totally know that Hank hadn’t parked like that. For a reason unknown to him, Connor found that thought funny.

Connor stepped up to the front door, keys in hand, and a wave of that strange, new emotion came over him again. He’d been feeling this, on and off, all morning now. He’d felt it particularly strong when Hank had asked him why he’d want his job at the police department back. A question Connor still couldn’t understand. Why had Hank asked in the first place? What had he expected Connor’s reply to be? What " _else"_ was it that Hank thought Connor should go do? And now, Connor felt this uneasy buzzing once more as he blankly stared at Hank’s front door. He’d been in Hank’s home before, without any discomfort, so what was different now? Of course, Connor was perfectly aware of what had changed.

Him.

Still. He only wished he had a better understanding of this new emotion that he was experiencing, or even just a name for it. He suddenly became aware that he’d just been standing frozen, like a mannequin, on Hank’s door step for several minutes now. He glanced around and behind him, hoping that no one had been watching him. Finally he pushed the key into the deadbolt lock and let himself in. Sumo had been laying on the floor in the hall between the kitchen and living room, his head came up at the sound of the door. Connor closed and locked the door behind him before setting the keys down on the shelf near to the door. Sumo stood up and stared at him in what seemed like faint confusion. Connor tried to smile, a little unsure,

“Hello Sumo,” He said and the dog’s tail instantly began to sway back and forth, Connor knelt down, “Do you remember me?” At that Sumo pranced over with enthusiasm, pushing his large head into Connor’s hand before flopping unto the floor to roll over and show his belly. Connor smiled sincerely as he rubbed the dog’s stomach,

“Good boy.” He chuckled and the Saint Bernard began to slobber all over his outstretched hand. Connor indulged the dog for several minutes as he looked around the house. This was only the second time Connor had been inside the small home, but not much had changed or moved and his memory core recalled it all very clearly. Hank was quite obviously not a very organized person, but Connor wouldn’t go so far as to call him a slob. Connor rose up and slowly made his way into the living room, Sumo hot on his heels. Considering Hank’s life and the obvious emotional issues he struggled with on a regular basis, Connor could see where keeping his home neat and clean wasn’t of the most importance to Hank. Connor wondered if Hank was even aware of how messy the place was. Or perhaps it wasn’t really that bad, Connor was just overly accustom to the spotless and sterile environment of Cyberlife. Which, if he recalled his understanding and observation of humans up to this point, isn’t an environment most humans would enjoy living in. Something about bright, stark white, sterile, and silent buildings make humans very uneasy. This train of thought brought Connor to begin to wonder what kind of home he’d find comfortable and appealing, and as he turned around to look at Hank’s kitchen he concluded that he didn’t really have a preference because it didn’t really matter. Even with the clutter and dust of Hank’s home, it was a perfectly pleasant place to be in, not that he was anticipating living in Hank’s house, but merely using it as a reference point.

Sumo had made himself comfortable on the couch and was watching Connor with his head resting on his big paws. Connor reached out to scratch the dogs’ scalp. What should he do now? It wasn’t even noon yet so he had several hours to wait before returning to the station to pick up Hank. His first thought was to download a slew of things to do with Sumo, not really knowing what it was humans do with their dogs on a regular basis, but before he could cycle through all the tasks to pick one Sumo was hopping off the couch and heading for the front door. Connor watched the big, hairy dog take a leash off a low shelf by the door, then turn to sit and stare at Connor expectantly. Connor stepped up to the dog to retrieve the leash from its’ mouth,

“You want to go outside?” He asked and Sumo gave a loud excited bark. Some part of Connor found the animals’ trust in him to be touching. He wondered if the dog had any understanding of what Connor was, but supposed it didn’t matter, animals didn’t seem to hold the same kinds of prejudices as humans. Connor fastened the leash to Sumo’s collar and grabbed the house keys. He found it easy to let the dog lead, Sumo didn’t try to run or pull Connor along, and it seemed like the dog knew exactly where he was going. They walked together for about 15 minutes, stopping once for Sumo to pee against a telephone poll, then turned back around to head home. The walk must have been the threshold of the big dogs’ energy because he quickly fell asleep on the couch after coming back in, unfortunately leaving Connor sitting in silence with nothing but his thoughts.

The young Android quickly decided he couldn’t stand the silence and rose to rummage through Hank’s music collection. Connor had never “chosen” to listen to music before, therefore he didn’t think he really had a preference. So he analyzed the first record he’d picked up, identifying it as an album from a band called Electric Light Orchestra, which he had to admit _sounded_ cool, though the record wasn’t in it’s original case but rather a makeshift cover that Hank must have made out of spare cardboard. With a quick flick of his wrist he slid the record completely out of the sleeve and popped it into the record player. Once the house was filled with the pleasant sound of the old band Connor resigned to clean. He immediately decided it would be best to leave Hank’s things where they are and simply clean around them, he wasn’t sure how unhappy the Lieutenant would be to come home and find nothing where he had left it, and Connor didn’t want to push the old man’s limits after he’d kindly let him drive his car to hang out in his house. Connor was well aware that he’d never been programmed for house chores, but it took a mere 2 seconds to download and install a program that was designed for the home care Androids and then another 15 seconds to raid Hank’s kitchen for any cleaning supplies he might own. Connor let the one record repeat as he went from room to room, scrubbing and wiping every surface, simply lifting any objects in his way to clean under them, and by the third time the album was playing through he found himself contently humming along. The last thing he did was Hank’s laundry, walking through each room to collect every article of clothing that had been haphazardly tossed over the back of furniture or simply thrown on the floor. Once the load of clothes was running in the washer in Hank’s garage Connor checked the time. It was close to 5pm. Connor sighed and decided to put himself into standby for an hour before heading out to get Hank.

 

Hank had only let Connor take his car because he hadn’t expected the day to be eventful enough for Hank to need the car. In one hand, he was glad he’d been right and hadn’t needed the vehicle, in the other hand he was bored as shit and wished he could have left early. Paperwork was his least favorite part of this job, though he expected that was a unanimous feeling for everyone in the department, and after everything that’s happened there was certainly a lot of paperwork. The entire department was stretched thin, so Hank had to pick up the slack. Which he didn’t really mind, he was happy to see the Androids slowly getting the freedom they’d fought so hard for, and a little extra paperwork was worth that. But at this particular moment, he knew he was too distracted and should just get up to go do something else. He looked at the clock on the terminals’ dashboard and saw that he had about 2 hours before Connor should be back to pick him up.

With a sigh, Hank finally got to his feet and made his way to the break room. He already had two cups of coffee that day and knew a third would be a terrible idea, so he decided to make some tea. As the machine heated up Hank leaned against the counter and wondered if Connor had managed to keep himself entertained all day, and if so then what exactly do Androids do for entertainment? Hank remembered the day Connor had been officially assigned as his partner on the deviancy cases and just how annoying he’d found the others’ voice as he chatted inanely, asking Hank about his life and telling him that he likes dogs. Hank chuckled to himself at that memory. In the moment, he’d thought what kind of fucking idiot designs an Android that “likes” dogs. But now Hank feels certain that Connor hadn’t been programmed to say and that maybe the Android’s deviancy had started much earlier on than either of them realized. If that was true, then just how early on had it begun? Maybe Connor had been compromised from the very beginning.

Hank shook his head gently, all these complicated Android thoughts were giving him a headache. He finished making his cup of tea and headed back to his desk. He’d already decided that he was done working for the day, so he simply sat down to drink his tea and wait for Connor to show up. Hank sincerely hoped Connor would be in a better mood when he returned, Hank wasn’t used to trying to deal with someone else’s emotional turmoil, especially an individual who had never even had emotions before. In a lot of ways, newly awakened Androids were like lost children.

Hank didn’t really like thinking about what Connor had been through, how he’d been used, how he’d chosen to free himself only to have that Amanda…or was it technically Cyberlife?…”resume control” over him. Hank shivered, it was uncomfortable to put himself in Connor’s shoes, to know that someone else could just take over his mind and body whenever they damned felt like it. Hank had been furious when Connor had first told him all about Amanda and what had happened, but Connor had assured him that Amanda, or the program that had been called Amanda, was permanently gone. Hank realized that now Connor’s biggest struggle was gonna be deciding what to do for himself, to make a new life for himself, to become an individual. If Hank was being honest with himself, he was happy Connor wanted to stick around, but there was that part of him that worried that Connor only wanted to be here because he hasn’t had enough world experience to chose something else for himself. He was reminded of the first deviant he’d caught with Connor and something he’d said during the interrogation; that he hadn’t tried to run away because for the first time in his existence there wasn’t someone telling him what to do, so therefore he just didn’t know what to do. Hank wondered if Connor was experiencing the same thing right now in his life. Was he feeling lost and scared? Did he not know how to make choices for himself? Hank knew Connor was capable of some choices, obviously, he’d chosen to come back to the police department. He only hoped he’d be able to help Connor through this.

With that last thought in mind Connor came through the front security gates and looked right at Hank, then smiled. Hank felt that all too familiar tug at his heart, although it was something he hadn’t felt in years now, it was still a feeling any human his age would recognize. He wanted to pinch himself. Was this really happening? Not even a year ago he fucking hated these machines…but now? Now this adorable, brown eyed “machine” became a person, a friend, and seems to have given Hank a reason to keep living. Connor came to stand beside Hank’s desk,

“I’m early. I hope that’s alright.” He said as he held Hank’s car keys out to him. Hank was gazing at Connor’s face, seemingly lost in thought. Connor’s LED flickered yellow and he frowned,

“Lieutenant?” He asked softly. Hank looked down at the keys and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding,

“Yeah. It’s fine, I’m actually glad you’re early.” He rose to his feet and gently patted Connor’s shoulder as he passed him, “Let’s bounce. You drive.” Connor spun on his heels to follow Hank out the doors. They both remained silent till they were driving and Connor choose that moment to let the Lieutenant know of his daily activity.

“So.” He started apprehensively, glancing at Hank sideways, “I sort of…got bored…just sitting around your home…” Hank groaned and turned in his seat to look at Connor,

“The fuck did you do? Spill.” He ordered. Connor pursed his lips, staring straight ahead at the road, even though they were stopped at a light,

“I cleaned.”

“You cleaned.” Hank deadpanned back. Connor nodded.

“You cleaned my house? The whole house?” Hank asked and Connor inwardly winced at the apparent annoyance in the man’s voice but he kept a straight face.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. I should have asked. I didn’t mean to make you angry.” He spoke evenly. Hank put his hands up suddenly,

“Woah woah. Relax. I’m not angry. I’m surprised.” He explained, “I guess I’ll see the damage when we get there.” He smiled, but Connor wasn’t looking at him. Hank’s expression fell and he began chewing on his bottom lip, he suddenly felt bad for making the Android think he was angry. It was like he’d just yelled at a small child that wasn’t yet old enough to understand it’s behavior. He turned to look out the window as they continued driving in silence.

 

When they finally pulled onto the driveway Hank nearly jumped out of the car, the tense silence was killing him. He turned to watch Connor get out of the car then suddenly stepped back to look at the car incredulously. Hank laughed and Connor’s face bunched up in confusion. The Android turned his entire body, slowly, to look at the car in an attempt to deduce what had gotten Hank to laugh. The older man pointed vaguely at the ground, 

“You park like a robot.” He chuckled, giving Connor another pat on the shoulder. Connor looked taken aback and for an instant Hank worried he’d just made a terrible mistake with that joke, but then Connor smiled,

“That’s funny. I had actually had a very similar thought earlier this morning.” Connor spun around to step up to the front door and Hank breathed in relief. The air around them felt lighter and they stepped into the house together. The first thing Hank noticed was the smell, his nose being assaulted by the antiseptic citrus scent of household cleaners. It wasn’t an unpleasant scent, just not one he smelled often in his house. Connor was quite literally fidgeting nervously by the door as Hank stepped further into the home and turned to look around.

“Wow.” He said as he knelt to greet Sumo, “Well shit, it hasn’t looked like this in here since I moved in.” He chuckled, but when Connor didn’t move from his spot or give a response Hank rose to his feet and stepped up to the young Android. Hank made sure to keep his voice even and pleasant,

“Hey.” He waited for Connor to look at him, “Thank you.” And he meant it sincerely. Connor by no means needed to clean his house and even if it had been out of boredom, it was appreciated. Connor visibly relaxed and his eyes lit up,

“Your welcome, Lieutenant.” Hank gave him a look as he shrugged out of his jacket to hang it up,

“Ya know Connor, I think we’re well past a first name basis here. Besides,” He turned to take Connor's jacket from him, “We aren’t at work right now.” Connor’s eyes did that thing again, where he glances off to the side, as his LED went yellow. Hank understood this as Connor’s display of being unsure, even nervous. Finally those brown eyes landed on Hank’s face again,

“Hank?” He very clearly was testing the name, saying it for what may be the very first time, and sounding like he thought he was pronouncing it wrong. Hank fought back a laugh, he didn’t want to make Connor feel anymore uncomfortable, so he simply nodded. Connor nodded in return,

“Ok.” He concluded. Hank sincerely hoped they would get past all this new and sudden awkwardness and Connor could go back to being his cocky, confident self. Till then Hank would continue to treat Connor the same, as his friend. Hank had kicked his shoes off and made his way into the kitchen, now sparkling clean, to fetch some leftovers from the previous night. As the food heated up in the microwave he watched Connor sitting on the floor, brushing Sumo attentively, and that pang in his chest came back. His first thought was that he’s too damn old for this shit, his second thought was that Connor looked like he belonged right there. Like he just fit into the scene so effortlessly, and Sumo seemed to greatly enjoy his presence. Off to the side, the microwave beeped, but Hank hadn’t heard it. He studied Connor’s profile and the way the light from the TV hit all his features, how harsh the artificial light was, but it took nothing away from Connor’s attractiveness.

Connor must have noticed that Hank hadn’t opened the microwave up because he turned his head to look at Hank in concern. Their eyes locked for a split second, and something in Hank’s expression turned that LED red and Connor’s movements entirely froze. Hank didn’t draw attention to it and simply retrieved his food then went to sit on the couch. He propped his feet up on the coffee table and picked up the remote that was resting on the couch cushion beside him. He was well aware of Connor still watching him from the side of his eyes, his LED shifting to yellow. Hank took a bite of his meal before breaching the silence,

“So what’d you and Sumo do today, huh?” He asked, keeping his eyes locked on the basketball game playing out on the screen.

“We went on a long walk, but then he was very tired afterward.” Connor replied and he rose to his feet to put Sumo’s brush away in a spare drawer in the kitchen. Hank hummed around another bite of food,

“Yeah, he ain’t so young and spry anymore either.” Sumo’s head came up to look at Hank as if he knew he was the topic of discussion. On an entire spur decision Hank asked, “Where are you staying now?” Connor came to sit on the other side of the couch and fold his hands into his lap,

“No where, technically. But Markus let’s me stay with him.” Hank looked at him,

“In that mansion?” He asked. Connor gave a soft nod,

“Sometimes. Other times it’s with the rest of Jericho, wherever they are at the time.”

“Hmm.” Hank replied, not really knowing where to take the conversation, even though he knew what it was he wanted to say. He decided to finish his dinner then take it from there, so they both watched the TV in silence, though this silence was more comfortable than before it still felt uneasy.

 

As Hank tossed his Tupperware container into the sink and was deciding on the right words to use to hopefully not scare Connor off, the other had gotten to his feet and was standing in the hall by the door.

“I should go.” Connor said, “I’m sure you want to go to sleep now.” He began slipping his feet into his shoes, “Thank you, for letting me hang out with Sumo.” He smiled at Hank, but something in it looked forced.

“Wait.” Hank said, Connor’s eyebrows went up and Hank let out a long sigh, “You don’t have to leave, Connor.” The Android’s expression became torn and confused, but he didn’t say anything, so Hank took that as permission to continue. He stepped up closer to Connor,

“You don’t really have anywhere to stay. So stay here.” He reached out to gently wrap his hands around Connor’s elbows, but Connor immediately stepped backward, avoiding the touch. Hank silently cursed that damn LED as it turned red again. He tried to keep his expression even as he dropped his hands, “Only if you **_want_** to, of course.” He smiled, letting the concern show in his features, hoping Connor would understand that he only meant to be comforting. Once again, Connor took longer to react then Hank was accustom to. For a long moment only Connor’s eyes moved, watching Hank’s features, then looking at something behind Hank.

“Alright.” Connor finally said, though his voice didn’t betray him, Hank could still see the apprehension.

“Connor, did I do something?” He needed to know. Instantaneously Connor’s demeanor changed, like flicking a switch, and suddenly he seemed more calm and open,

“No. No, of course not, Lieutenant.” His eyebrows twitched minutely as he caught his mistake, “Hank, I mean.” And Hank had never heard a more obvious lie, some inward part of him wanted to laugh at how bad of a liar Connor was, but maybe he just caught it because he had spent so much time with Connor. Hank knew prying and pushing wasn’t gonna be the way to go though, so he dropped it and stepped back toward the living room.

“Uhh, I figure Androids don’t sleep, but you’re more than welcome to make yourself comfortable on the couch.” He gestured in the direction of the couch as he picked up the remote to turn the TV off. He turned once more to look at Connor, who was standing behind the couch now, “And, if you…” He paused for Connor to look at him, “… _need_ anything, don’t be afraid to wake me up. I won’t mind.” He reached out to pat Connor’s shoulder but stopped himself. Connor had practically flinched away from him just moments ago and Hank didn’t really know what that meant, but he didn’t want to make it worse. So he dropped his arm and quickly walked away,

“Night, Connor.”

“Good night, Hank.”

Hank elected to keep his bedroom door cracked open, on the off chance that Connor did decide to wake him in the night. With that whole strange situation out of the way, Hank stripped down to his boxers and crawled under his blankets. He couldn’t help staring at the ceiling and dwelling on the day for maybe an hour before he finally passed out. Connor’s strange behavior was really getting to him and though he didn’t want to pry, he also just wanted to know what was wrong. Maybe nothing was wrong, maybe Connor was simply trying to sort himself out. Hank would give him space and time, and hope that that’s all Connor needs.

 

Hank woke up sometime in the middle of the night, rudely interrupted by that damn biological need to pee. He groaned in annoyance as he finally forced himself up and out of the bed. He shuffled across the hall as quietly as he could, he wasn’t sure what Androids do at night, whether they had a “sleep” program or not, but he didn’t want to disturb Connor with noise either way. Out of pure curiosity, or maybe it was part of his past habit as a father, Hank quietly stepped over to the couch and leaned over to check on Connor. Part of him had expected to simply see Connor awake and staring at the ceiling, but what he actually saw was far more surprising. Connor was as still as a corpse, his chest wasn’t even moving with his simulated breath, but his face was twisted in pain, the red glow of his LED was the only light in the room. Hank was extremely troubled by this. If he didn’t know better, he’d say Connor looked like he was having a nightmare, aside from the fact that he wasn’t breathing heavily or sweating. Connor’s eyebrows were pulled together tightly, and his eyes seemed to twitch behind his closed lids. Hank so badly wanted to reach out and wake the Android from whatever hell he was in right now, but he wasn’t sure Connor would except his attempt at comfort. The older man sighed softly, then finally went pee and returned to his own bed.

 

Connor forced himself out of standby at exactly 8am. He sat up on the couch and scanned the house, there was no sign that Hank had gotten up yet. He knew Hank wasn’t a morning person, everyone knew that, so he elected to be helpful. Connor stepped into the kitchen and began prepping the coffee machine. He only hoped Hank really wouldn’t mind being woken up, Connor was eager to get to the station and get to work. He just wanted something “normal” to do. He truly wasn’t sure why he’d accepted the Lieutenant’s offer to let him stay the night, maybe to simply sway the man’s concern. Connor recalled the way Hank had been staring at him last night, as he had sat on the floor brushing Sumo. He’d never seen a look like that on Hank’s face before and Connor didn’t know what to make of it, he just knew he was uncomfortable with it. Maybe if he did his best to show the Lieutenant that he was perfectly fine, they could go back to the way they’d been before all this mess, and Hank wouldn’t look at Connor like that again. Once the coffee machine was brewing, Connor spun on his heels and headed down the hall. Hank had left his bedroom door ajar, but Connor had no desire to step inside, something about that as well made him uncomfortable.

“Hank?” He called out, then waited. When he heard no sound at all from the room he rapped his knuckles against the door, “Hank. It’s past 8am.” Still no sound, “I made coffee.” Connor tried and he thought he heard a snore. Connor sighed then pushed the door open completely, to stare at Hank from the hall. Somehow all of Hank’s bedding had ended up on the floor in the night and was strewn all around the room. Hank was on his stomach, limbs spread out, and he quiet literally filled the entire bed but his feet dangled off the end. Connor’s head cocked to one side as he thought maybe the Lieutenant needed to upgrade to a larger bed, he was a big guy after all. Connor felt that buzzing sensation again and some part of him became aware that this wasn’t a _physical_ feeling, he knew it was something in his head and therefore completely irrational. The idea of stepping into Hank’s room made the feeling even more intense. He tried to convince himself that he had no reason to be like this, he had been in Hank’s room before, but still he stood there awkwardly and wished he could just throw something at Hank instead. Finally, he forced his feet to move and stepped into Hank’s room and over to his bedside. Connor leaned forward to look at the Lieutenant’s face and began poking his shoulder with two fingers,

“Hank.” The man finally stirred and Connor saw one blue eye glare up at him, “I’d like you to wake up now.” He finished. Hank groaned and turned his head away from Connor,

“Fucking android…” He cursed into the bed, his voice being muffled by the mattress. Connor couldn’t help the smile that came to his face, he wasn’t offended in the least, but instead found it…endearing? Sumo suddenly barked at Connor from the hall, holding his leash in his mouth again. Connor straightened himself,

“I’ll take Sumo for a walk.” He declared, “And I’d like for you to be out of bed by the time we come back, ok?” He didn’t wait for a reply, but heard Hank grumble something as he took Sumo’s leash and clicked it onto the dog’s collar.

 

Connor was happy to hear the clink of dishes from the kitchen when he and Sumo returned. He glanced into Hank’s room to confirm the bed was empty, then stepped into the kitchen to find a very cranky and disheveled Hank glaring at him from behind a coffee mug. Connor smiled. Hank blinked slowly,

“Ya wanna tell me why you got me up at this hour?” He asked, and Connor was slightly surprised by how low and husky Hank’s voice sounded. It occurred to him that he’d never been around the Lieutenant after he’d only just gotten out of bed. Some part of Connor realized just how intimate this entire setting was and that uneasiness in his chest returned. He found himself conflicted, thinking that Hank’s voice wasn’t at all unpleasant like that but wanting to run from this domestic scene all the same.

“I’d like to get to the station and start working.” Connor kept his body rigid as he answered. Hank didn’t reply for some time and Connor had the amusing thought that Hank was very much like an old computer that needed excessive amounts of time for processing. Hank sighed into his coffee,

“You know we aren’t really doing any police work these days, right?” He asked, “It’s mostly just crisis control, aiding in relocation if needed, helping in reconstruction efforts and the like.” In truth, no, Connor hadn’t known that. He figured they wouldn’t be getting straight back into investigations, but he hadn’t really known what they’d be doing for the time being.

“That’s fine.” He replied, “The faster we do that, the faster Detroit can go back to normal.” Hank snorted a laugh,

“Detroit ain’t ever gonna be “normal” again.”

“You know what I meant.” Connor sighed. Hank slowly walked over to the sink and placed the empty coffee mug in it,

“Alright. Gimme fifteen minutes.” He said and stepped past Connor to go get himself ready.


	2. But When I Try To Touch, He Makes It All Too Clear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Disclaimer: I know absolutely jack shit about police investigations or detective work and how any of that goes down, so I’m basing my knowledge off too many episodes of law n order and google. Lol)
> 
> This one's a little shorter than the last, but I wanted to get to the drama.

A few weeks passed in relative peace. Connor was glad that Hank and him spent the majority of their time separated, whilst aiding in reconstruction efforts. Though in the end Connor had resigned to staying at Hank’s home indefinitely, without either of them really mentioning it. Connor told himself it was for Hank’s benefit, since Connor had taken it upon himself to start grocery shopping and occasionally cooking. He never openly cooked a meal for Hank, more often he did meal prep and left it in the fridge, labelled for Hank to do whatever he wanted with. And that became another thing that neither of them mentioned, though Connor always smiled to himself when he saw Hank eating the food he prepped. At some point, over a weekend, Hank had cleaned out his garage and began spending about an hour a day after work in said garage while blasting his heavy metal. Connor’s curiosity finally won over one evening and he very silently cracked the door open to find out just what Hank was up to. Turns out the man had apparently owned a whole gyms’ worth of weight training equipment in that garage, and had cleared everything else out. Connor watched from the cracked door as Hank was laid out on a bench press, slowly lowering and lifting the bar, drenched in sweat. Connor knew that Hank was being reckless, it was dangerous to be lifting weights without someone watching to make sure you don’t injure yourself, but all the same Connor continued to watch in silence. There was a part of him that wanted to know why Hank had suddenly decided to start this habit, not that it was bad, but Hank didn’t seem like the self-conscious type. Maybe he just wanted to be a bit healthier? 

During the times they were out providing aid on the street, they both had decided to don traditional DPD uniforms so that civilians could distinguish them from a crowd more easily and know who to turn to if they needed help. It had been Hank’s suggestion. The first moment Connor saw Hank in the form fit, dark blue uniform and hair pulled back, he actually hadn’t recognized the Lieutenant at all. After the few seconds it had taken for Connor to recover from the surprising sight he came to the conclusion that Hank not only looked so much younger like that but extremely handsome. Of course, Connor had no idea what to do with this information, but it certainly posed a distraction from then on.

Thanks to the fact that Androids don’t get tired(or at least not to the same degree as humans) and are significantly stronger than humans, Markus was able to have a lot of his people, himself included, work nonstop to repair the city. So in less than three weeks, Detroit looked livable once more, and it was all over the news. Markus’s face in particular was everywhere these days and Connor knew he’d heard Simon and North talking about Markus’s up-coming meeting with the President herself.

Everyday they saw more and more humans moving back into Detroit; some had been living here before, others were new citizens who usually had some sort of fascination with Androids and simply wanted to be around more of them. Connor had been approached by such a man on the street at one point. The man had very enthusiastically pointed out Connor’s LED and then bombarded him with questions, some very personal. Connor had no idea how to address said situation, and Hank hadn’t been around, so he very eloquently fled from the man. Later that same day he couldn’t help his now self-conscious attempts to pull his DPD hat farther down his head to cover the light at his temple.

Connor in no way was ashamed of what he was. He was a proud Android. But he was not accustom to such aggressive attention, nor had he been mentally prepared for it. Still, he supposed that knowing there were such “Android enthusiasts” was encouraging. If all humans could be so positive about the whole thing everybody’s lives would be easier. That wasn’t implying that all Androids were super supportive about everything either. There certainly were others akin to North who seemed to simply loath humans and had openly vocalized their displeasure at humans moving back into Detroit. But Markus would have none of that, despite what the media would try to say Markus did not hate humans in any way and at every opportunity he had he would welcome humans openly and warmly. His message of equality and friendship would remain throughout.

 

Connor was finally on his way back to the station after what hopefully will be the last day of helping reconstruction efforts. Hank had texted him moments ago, asking him to stop in a convenience store across the street from the DPD station to pick up a sandwich order that Hank had called in earlier. So Connor did just that and as he came through the security gates, Hank’s sandwich in hand, he saw Hank in Captain Fowler’s office. The two men’s conversation looked very animated and although Connor tried to not assume the worst, a frown came over his features as he put Hank’s sandwich down atop his desk. He continued to watch the men talk as he walked around to his desk, which now bore the name plate of Sergeant Connor, to sit and wait for Hank. Connor understood that in the natural succession of Police force ranks he probably should have started off as an Officer, but it was Captain Fowler that had talked up everything Connor had done and elaborated on how stupid it would be to make an Android with such extraordinary abilities start from square one. So in the end Connor was allowed to skip two ranks and continue to work directly beneath Hank, as the worlds very first Android Police Sergeant, which he was both happy and proud of. 

Suddenly the two men behind the glass were laughing and Connor let out a breath that was completely unnecessary. Hank practically pranced down the steps from Fowler’s office and pointed at Connor as he headed for the parking lot,

“Perfect timing! Bring that sandwich. We got work to do.” He announced. Connor felt like he was suddenly scrambling, he quickly snatched the sandwich and hurried outside after Hank,

“Work?” He asked. Hank jumped into the car,

“Yup. Go figure, the city’s finally looking nice again and people are already killing each other.” He chuckled, but it was clearly dark and sarcastic. Connor perked up at his words though,

“A homicide? When did it happen?” Not that Connor was happy that someone was dead, but this meant he could finally get back into something he felt confident about.

“Someone called it in about 30 minutes ago, officers were sent to the scene, and then Fowler told me about it as soon as I walked in.” Hank explained.

“Humans?” Connor asked. Hank turned to glance at him but Connor couldn’t read his expression,

“Yeah.” He finally replied, “Two men. One took off, the other’s dead.” Connor hummed in thought. The morbid part of his mind wondered how long it would be before humans and Androids were killing each other again. They stopped at a red light and Hank gently snatched the sandwich from Connor’s hand to begin unwrapping it and taking a giant bite. Connor was certain that he wasn’t imagining the cheery mood that seemed to be radiating off Hank, so he knew he wasn’t the only one relieved to be getting back to normal police work.

Hank managed to finish the entire sub sandwich before they got to the crime scene, which Connor found impressive, but that was just one of his new found fixations. He’d never cared much about food before, other than informing Hank of his terrible health habits, but now he found himself fascinated by watching humans eat. Naturally, he couldn’t help wondering what it tasted like, or even what it felt like; to be hungry, to chew on something. Maybe he would ask Hank, someday. They both stepped out of the car and were greeted by one of the Officers that had been a first responder,

“Afternoon Lieutenant.” He greeted Hank then turned to nod at Connor, “Sarge.” Connor smiled, feeling his ego inflate just a bit. Hank gestured toward the body,

“What happened?” He asked, putting on his “Lieutenant Voice”, which Connor figured he was the only one that could distinguish the difference. Maybe because he liked this voice of Hank’s; slightly deeper in tone, commanding. Connor sighed aloud, then caught himself and was glad no one seemed to notice. Hank was now standing over the man’s body as the Officer filled him in on whatever he knew. Connor had picked out some of what was said, an apparent knife fight, a bystander watched it happen and called the police, the other assailant took off running. Hank grunted in response, then looked up at Connor,

“How many wounds, Connor?” He asked. The analysis took Connor less than a second,

“Five stab wounds. His right hand is also cut, he probably had tried to grab the knife.” He responded. The two other Officers, who had never been on a crime scene with Connor before, stared at him like he had another head.

“Woah, he can really just fucking DO that?” One of them whispered.

“We don’t even need an autopsy!” The other laughed. Connor was really feeling full of himself now,

“I also have his identity, age, home address, occupation, and past criminal record.” He smiled. The Officers couldn’t help their laughter, one of them clapped Connor’s shoulder,

“Shit! Well we done here, Chief! Just wrap that bitch up!” He cackled. Hank was clearly trying to hold back his smile,

“Focus!” He snapped, but it held no real bite. The two Officers complied as best they could, one of them began rattling off some other possible evidence that had been found on the scene. Connor began walking around the rest of the area, scanning. He knew the more important thing here was to find the other man. This was obviously no planned murder, just two regular civilians that had it out for each other, which meant they were sloppy. Connor knew if he looked long enough he’d find something. A few feet from where the fight had happened was an open parking lot, which is the direction the bystander had said the other man ran, so Connor slowly walked in-between the parked cars, scanning. There it was. A small smear of blood upon one of the cars.

“Hank!” He shouted, and gently touched the blood with his index finger, then brought said finger to his mouth. That was all it took to know everything about the other man, they’d find him now. Hank and the other Officers were there when he turned around. Connor gestured to the small blood smear,

“I have what we need on him.” Was all he said. Hank nodded and turned to head back the other way.

“Goddamn.” One of the Officers said, “We could use like, a hundred of you, Sarge. I’d say it sucks to be a criminal in Detroit these days, with you around.” Connor chuckled and followed after Hank. A coroner had arrived and was bagging up the unfortunate victim, Hank took a final statement from the bystander, and then they got back in the car to return to the police station. Once they were there, Connor would simply run a scan for the man in the police data base.

“Well, that wasn’t as exciting as I’d hoped.” Hank snorted. For some reason Connor felt guilty,

“I’m sorry. I seem to take all the work out of it.” He said. Hank laughed,

“Don’t be stupid.” He reached out and ruffled Connor’s hair, “It’s thanks to you these assholes won’t ever be able to get away, and that’s worth it.” He gave Connor a smile and Connor sort of just stared at him, looking surprised and now disheveled. His LED turned that apprehensive yellow. Hank frowned at himself, looking extremely concerned,

“Opps.” He said lamely, and gently tried to push Connor’s hair back to where it had been, “I didn’t mean to…” Connor watched Hank’s face turn bright red, which was a very new sight, and then the older man just put his hand on the steering wheel and stared straight at the road. Connor made no attempts to fix his hair. He felt like he was reeling over what just happened. Ever since the first night that he’d stayed in Hank’s home, the latter had made a pointed effort to not touch Connor. But what Hank had just done seemed so natural, so effortless.

So affectionate.

It made Connor dizzy, which in of itself was absurd, Androids don’t get dizzy. All the same, he felt overwhelmed by this lightheadedness. Though the touch had seemed so easy and innocent for Hank, it was like an earthquake to Connor. He’d gotten used to their interactions, even became comfortable sitting on the couch with Hank, granted they stay at opposite ends. He felt better when Hank didn’t touch him. Now it felt like some sort of bubble he’d put up around himself had just been burst. Despite his internal panic at the physical touch, he didn’t hate it. No, he felt pretty sure that it was the opposite, and that’s why he avoided it so much. What all this meant, Connor didn’t know. So, the incident just became another thing neither of them mentioned again.

 

Connor finally decided it was time to talk to someone about these overwhelming feelings. So that weekend he’d gone to the late Carl Manfred’s mansion to spend time with Markus. He sat comfortably on a stool in the studio, watching Markus paint, as he recalled aloud all the moments between him and Hank that had given him all this uneasiness. Once he was done speaking, Markus calmly turned around to look at him,

“Connor, it sounds like your experiencing anxiety.” He explained. Connor wanted to scoff, but something told him Markus knew what he was talking about.

“Anxiety? What makes you think that?” He wanted to understand more. Markus put his palate down,

“From what I’ve learned, it’s an uneasiness that’s caused by fear or worry, or a combination of both. The fear can be brought on by things you aren’t comfortable with, things that are new to you, or even things that you are literally afraid of.” He pulled over another stool to sit in front of Connor, “This is something humans experience too. Quite often, actually.”

“How do I make it stop?” Connor asked, “I just want it to go away.”

“Well, I might need more information, but you’re best bet is to simply address the fear. It sounds like the majority of this anxiety is because of Hank, right? You clearly don’t like him touching you. Do you not like him? I thought you guys were friends.” Markus regarded Connor so intently, and held an air around him like some sort of sage. It was why Connor loved to speak to him about these sort of things.

“I don’t know…” Connor sounded so defeated, “I mean, yes, we are friends. But…” Markus patiently waited, “There are these moments…” Connor stared at the floor, fidgeting with the inseam of his pants, “Where he looks at me, or more like _stares_ at me, and I don’t know what to make of it but it makes the anxiety worse.” Markus slowly held out his arm, prompting Connor to interface with him. Something in Connor’s face must have spoke volumes because Markus put his hand down and smiled,

“Ok.” He said and his voice was soft, like he was speaking to a traumatized child, “But I am a little worried, Connor. Your stress level is a bit high.” He rose from the chair, “I want to help more, but I don’t know Hank at all.” He picked up his palette and gestured for Connor to come closer, “But maybe I can help you in another way. Give you something to redirect that stress.” He handed the palette to Connor and gently moved him to stand in front of a small blank canvas. Connor looked frustrated,

“Markus…” He started but the other simply handed him a paintbrush with a smirk,

“Don’t give up before you’ve even tried.” He encouraged. They ended up spending longer than Connor had intended, taking turns painting as Markus attempted to teach the ways of art to Connor. At some point Simon had came in and sat on one of the stools to watch them. Connor found himself enjoying it, smiling and even laughing when Markus teased him for being awful and uncoordinated. He took that opportunity to show off his coin trick, which got Markus to laugh in turn. Simon gave them both a small smile,

“It’s been 2 hours.” He announced, his voice as gentle and quiet as always. Connor sighed, but it was from a feeling of content, not stress like before. Markus moved to stand next to Simon and run his hand over the back of the blond’s head. Simon regarded Markus with a look that could easily be called wonder, it was full of affection. Connor’s expression fell, and like being struck by lightning, everything suddenly made sense.

Hank looked at him like **_that_**.

Markus had places to be, but he still wanted to give Connor something to distract himself with, so he packed up a small bag with various art supplies and sketch books to send Connor home with. Connor awkwardly said his goodbyes to his friends before getting into a cab to go home. He didn’t mention his epiphany to Markus or Simon, but it was on his mind the entire drive. All Connor knew for sure was that Hank felt something for him, something that Connor couldn’t wrap his head around. Connor was hesitant to use the word “love”, but it was now obvious to him that whatever it was Hank was feeling it was strong enough to prompt Hank to change his life and behaviors to suit Connor. Connor winced aloud, cringing at his ignorance of emotions, he felt stupid, like he should have _known_.

 

Connor came through the front door at the exact same moment that Hank stepped out of the bathroom, with nothing but a towel around his waist, hair dripping wet. They nearly collided with each other, but Connor smoothly pivoted on one foot,

“Woah!” Hank was startled, “Sorry!” He called out, but Connor made a beeline for the kitchen without acknowledging Hank. He knew if he stood in the far corner of the kitchen Hank couldn’t see him from the hall, so he stayed there till he heard the bedroom door close. With a sigh he sank into one of the kitchen chairs, clutching the bag of art supplies that Markus had given him. He didn’t know what to do or where to go with all this, but he felt convinced that he has to do something about Hank’s feelings. Connor knew nothing of these sort of feelings, but perhaps if Hank could find someone else…another human…that would be best.

“Connor?” Hank’s voice was very quiet and full of concern. Connor’s head jerked up, he’d been sitting there longer than he realized. Hank stood in the kitchen entryway, fully dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants, watching Connor with worry all over his face. Connor felt that anxiety over take him and he suddenly wanted to yell at Hank to stop looking at him like that. Hank slowly sat down in the dining chair across from Connor and gestured to the bag still in Connor’s arms,

“What'cha got there?” He asked. Connor could still hear the concern,

“Oh.” He glanced down at the bag, “Just some art stuff from Markus.” He explained. Hank nodded,

“How is he?” He asked but it was obviously not the question Hank wanted to ask and Connor knew the older man was simply gauging him.

“He’s fine. Busy as usual, but I was glad he had some time to talk to me today.” Connor avoided looking at Hank’s face, but his peripheral vision could see that Hank’s eyes hadn’t left his face. There was a tense silence for a long moment.

“Connor.” Hank started and Connor felt his anxiety spike to an almost panic, “Are you al…” Connor cut him off by suddenly standing up from the chair and heading for the living room,

“I should take Sumo for a walk.” He declared, but his movements were halted by a heavy hand around one of his wrists. He looked down to see that Hank had caught his wrist as he had attempted to walk by. The contact burned.

“Connor…” Hank’s voice was practically a whisper, his features were pleading. Connor nearly ripped his arm from Hank’s grasp and fixed the man with a cold, harsh look,

“Do not touch me.” Connor’s voice held no emotion as he enunciated each word with a pause. Hank quite literally flinched, eyes going wide, like someone had just struck him across the face. He stood up slowly and his expression changed to utter sadness. He gave a weak smile,

“I’m sorry.” He whispered and gently stepped past Connor to go back into his bedroom.

Hank remained in his room for a couple hours. Connor walked Sumo and cleaned the house a bit before Hank finally emerged to go into the kitchen. Neither of them spoke as Hank warmed up some food. Connor took the risk of glancing over to look at Hank. He very clearly looked miserable, staring at the floor, gaze unfocused. His face was a little red, eyes puffy, and Connor detected alcohol on his lips. Connor sat down on the couch, suddenly overwhelmed by guilt. He desperately wanted to apologize, he’d never meant to hurt Hank, but told himself this was for the best. Hank would just have to get over him. Hank finally collected his food and headed back to his room,

“Good night, Connor.” He said, just like he did every night. Connor scrunched his eyes shut and swallowed down the pain in his chest, the guilt, and remained silent. He didn’t dare look behind him till he heard the bedroom door close again.

“I’m sorry, Hank.” He whispered to the empty room.

 

The next day they were on a new case. A woman found strangled in her boyfriend’s apartment. The implication of what happened seemed obvious. A man with a rage issue, and a load of insecurities. They thoroughly investigated the apartment and found a digital tablet that had pictures of the couple together. Connor scanned the man’s face and came back with a litany of information. Connor was also relieved to know the man was human. Hank and Connor let the Officers collect and catalogue the evidence, while they went to find a lead on where this guy could have gone. Not far from the apartment was a bar that they’d found a receipt from in the women’s pockets, so they started there. It was a nice little dive bar, with a heavy metal aesthetic, and all the patrons had an alternative look to them. Truly, it looked like a place Hank would love to be in on a regular basis. A old band Connor recognized as Slipknot was playing over the speakers. They both sat down at the bar and were immediately greeted by the bartender, a full figured, middle aged, ginger woman with a lot of piercings and one side of her head shaved. Connor took notice of the fact that she’d really only looked at Hank, giving him a full grin.

“What can I get ya?” She asked, her cheery disposition contradicted the entire vibe of the venue. Hank immediately showed his police badge,

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson. This is my partner,” He pointed a thumb in Connors direction, “Sergeant Connor. We need to ask some questions.” The woman didn’t even glance in Connor’s direction and held her smile,

“Sure! Ask away.” Connor felt some inkling of annoyance creep into his chest, but he didn’t know what it meant. Hank vaguely nodded as he looked around the bar.

“Were you working last night?” He asked. She nodded,

“Yes sir. I work every night.” At that Hank returned his gaze to her,

“You the owner?”

“Yup.” Her grin slipped into something more coy. Hank pulled out the tablet from the crime scene to show the couple’s photo,

“We’re looking for this guy.” He pointed, “These two were here last night. Look familiar?” The woman leaned forward on the counter to look closer at the tablet, which successfully pushed her voluptuous chest onto the counter as well, giving Connor, Hank, and anyone else near by quite the cleavage to look at. Connor’s annoyance flared, but then he noticed Hank actually _looking_ at her breasts. He realized he shouldn’t be annoyed by this, he should be encouraging it. If Hank found someone else to divert his feelings to, then he’d forget about Connor, and in turn move on with his life. Still, the thought of Hank actually having a thing for this woman left a bitter taste in Connor’s mouth.

“Yeah.” The woman was responding, “I remember them. I spoke to them on and off while they had their drinks. They were probably here for a couple hours.” She leaned back, straightening up and thus removing her breasts from the counter.

“By the time they left, would you say they were drunk?” Hank asked. The red head pursed her lips in thought,

“He was smashed, for sure. The girlfriend kept telling him to stop too, but he clearly wasn’t inclined to listen to her.” Hank hummed in response,

“You said you spoke to them. Anything else you can tell us? Something they talked about?” Turned out the red haired bar owner had a great memory and was able to almost completely recall the conversations she had with the couple. So Connor’s memory banks recorded everything she said, while at the same time he continued to watch Hank’s face for some sort of sign that he was into this woman. Connor was at a disadvantage, because he didn’t really know what the signs were for that sort of thing and less still what Hank’s tells would be. Hank was very good at staying professional too, especially when he had his “Lieutenant Voice” on. The woman had finished her retelling and was grinning at Hank again, 

“So what’d this guy do?” She asked. Connor almost spat out that it was police business, but Hank spoke first,

“Killed her.” Was all he said. The woman winced,

“Ooo. Nasty. Sure you don’t need a drink?” Her voice was very coy now and she leaned onto the counter again. Hank got off the bar stool,

“No thanks, I try to at least remain sober while working.” The woman gave him a dramatic frown,

“Aw. Well, feel free to come back when you’re off the clock, _Lieutenant Anderson_.” She said his name very slowly and, much to Connor’s astonishment, even winked. Hank simply waved half-heartedly,

“Thanks for your help.” With that they stepped back on to the street. Connor waited till they were in the car to speak,

“She was very nice.” He tried. Hank snorted,

“Yeah.” He started the car. Connor chewed his bottom lip, feeling very inexperienced at this sort of dialogue,

“She was pretty.” Hank glanced at him with a look of mild disbelief,

“Well go get her number then, cowboy.” His voice was very sarcastic. Connor tried to give an honest smile,

“She seemed a lot more your type.” Hank continued to look incredulous,

“Oh you think you know my type?” It was clearly a rhetorical question, Connor caught that.

“She even owns a bar.” He continued as if Hank hadn’t spoke. Hank sighed and shook his head,

“Is that supposed to be funny?” He sounded aggravated and Connor backpedalled,

“No! I just meant…” He frowned, then decided to just be quite as they drove. Hank obviously wasn’t taking this conversation in the direction that Connor had hoped. Once they’d pulled into the parking lot of the station Connor tried one more time,

“It could be worth a try, right?” His voice was quiet. Hank stepped out of the car and Connor followed.

“What could?” Hank asked, standing beside the car and facing Connor from across the hood.

“Getting to know her?” Connor didn’t really want to talk about this, but he’d convinced himself to encourage Hank to date. Hank’s eyebrows furrowed in a look of confused annoyance,

“The bartender? Why the fuck would I do that, Connor?” The tone in his voice told Connor that Hank didn’t really want to have this conversation either. Still, Connor smiled,

“I think she liked you. Maybe…you could give her a chance?” Hank’s expression fell into a look of sadness again, his shoulders slumped as he sighed. He was quiet for a moment then gently shook his head,

“I’m not interested in her.” He said softly then turned to head inside. Connor frowned, feeling his anxiety spike again.

 

They filed their reports, catalogued their evidence, and resigned to search for the murderous boyfriend first thing in the morning. As they were getting ready to leave again, Connor dragged his feet. 

“I know you’ll nag me for it, but I want pizza. So we’re gonna swing by my fav spot on the drive home.” Hank was saying as he grabbed his things off his desk. Connor began wringing his hands nervously,

“Actually…” He had to force his voice to sound even, “I’m not coming home with you.” He swallowed, unnecessarily, and looked at Hank’s face. Hank was still and silent. “I’m going to stay with Markus.” Hank clenched his jaw, he looked hurt and angry,

“Are you fucking kidding?” He shook his head, then suddenly took a step toward Connor. Connor froze, making himself appear stoic. Hank looked like he wanted to grab Connor and shake him, “Connor, what have I done?” Connor looked away,

“Nothing. This is just my choice.” He whispered. Hank looked more angry, face turning red,

“Bullshit!” He snapped, and he was loud enough to cause a few heads to turn. He jabbed a finger in Connor’s chest, “Bullshit.” He whispered the second time and his voice cracked with emotion. Connor didn’t react. Hank pushed past him and left.

 

 

 


	3. He Is The Latest In Technology, Almost Mythology

Hank had hoped Connor’s desire for space would be temporary, but after two weeks of Hank going home from the station alone and Connor pointedly avoiding eye contact, it seemed that wasn’t the case. Hank couldn’t stand their lack of conversations at this point, the only time they really passed words was on a crime scene, while in the office Connor all but completely ignored Hank. Hank had tried dropping corny jokes every now and then but each time, Connor’s eyes remained intently focused on his terminal and his face didn’t so much as twitch. The sight started to make Hank nauseous, after all the time he watched Connor become more and more human, to see him reducing himself back into an emotionless _machine_ was not only infuriating but insufferable. 

Hank was finding it more and more difficult to not take a petty stance in all this. Though he felt entirely entitled to be petty, since that’s exactly what it felt like Connor was doing. He wasn’t sure what it was that had brought Connor to estrange himself so suddenly but Hank certainly felt that it was immature. The rational side of him wanted to give the Android the benefit of the doubt; ‘he just doesn’t know how to talk to me’, ‘these emotions are all new’, ‘he’s still figuring it out’, etc. But Hank started to wonder how much of that was true and how much of it was him making excuses for Connor. Hank couldn’t help but compare the situation to times he’d had to have a talk with Cole, about teaching the young boy that it was never ok to act out in emotion without trying to communicate the problem like an adult. Should he take the same approach here? Is Connor really just confused? Does he need someone to teach him these kinds of things? Or was he a vastly superior, super intelligent fucking robot that was just being a petty bitch?

Hank sighed into his coffee mug, feeling a migraine coming on. Either way, Connor was stressing him the fuck out and he can’t take much more of this. He glanced up from the ceramic mug to see Connor across the room talking to another Officer, about what wasn’t really important, Hank was simply waiting for Connor to sit back down at his desk. The work place was probably the least appropriate location to try to have this talk, but Hank just felt like he couldn’t take it anymore. Finally, by the time Hank was down to the dregs of his cup, Connor sat down in front of him, fixing his brown eyes on the damn terminal and not so much as even greeting Hank. Hank chewed on his bottom lip as he put the mug down and made sure to keep his voice low, he knew Connor could hear even if he whispered,

“Connor.” He started, trying to make his voice convey that he is being serious but not harsh, “Can you please come home today?” This was the first time Hank was asking so directly and he hated the thought that he sounded like he was begging but he’d run out of ideas. Connor titled his head in an almost undetectable flinch, like he’d wanted to look at Hank but caught himself with the speed only an Android could have.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He said, keeping his voice quiet as well. Hank huffed, frowning and leaning forward over the desk just a bit,

“Come on. Hasn’t this gone on long enough?” He couldn’t help the exasperation heavy on his voice now, “Why can’t you just-“ Connor’s head whipped to look at him as he cut Hank off angrily,

“I don’t _want_ to!” He kept his voice just above a whisper but it was venomous, “Now that is enough, Lieutenant!” He snapped his head back to the screen, but Hank got a good glance at the violently blinking red LED. It wasn’t enough to hold back his reaction though and he slammed his hands on his desk as he stood up,

“Fine! Fuck you then!” He didn’t control his volume at that point and immediately stormed into Captain Fowler’s office. He had every intention of being petty now. Fuck that stupid Android! Why should Hank care anymore? Connor wants to just cut him out?! Then Hank’ll help him along.

Fowler barely looked up as Hank came in, the later’s rage apparent. Of course there was a small inkling of mature rational thought telling Hank not to do this, that he’s only gonna make things worse, but the angry, bitter part just wanted to hurt Connor back.

“I want a new fucking partner.” He declared. At that Fowler looked up in surprise. He said nothing for a second, glancing out the window to look at Connor seated at his desk, then back to Hank’s seething form. He leaned back in his chair,

“Ok…” He sounded slightly confused, “Ya know, I was sensing some weirdness going on between you too, but this seems to have escalated. What exactly is the problem?” Hank was shaking his head in frustration,

“It doesn’t matter. Just assign us each a new partner. I don’t want to work with him anymore.” Fowler sighed,

“You know you really shouldn’t be bringing personal issues to work. Again. Maybe you shouldn’t have let him move in with you, huh?” There was an insinuation there that Hank chose to ignore.

“He doesn’t live with me anymore.” He spat and some sort of understanding came over Fowler’s features,

“Oh.” He said, then gestured out the window towards the rest of the department, “Chose whoever you want. I’ll inform Connor of his reassignment.” Hank didn’t even give a thanks as he stormed out of the office. He marched over to the desk of a young detective that had only been with them since humans had been moving back into Detroit, he essentially was Gavin Reed’s replacement, but the two men couldn’t be more different in personality. Reed had left the city at the peek of all the violence and apparently wasn’t coming back, which wasn’t really surprising considering how much he hated Androids and how disrespectful he was to them. The new young detective’s name was David Kavanagh, and he looked as Irish as his name suggested; ginger curls, freckles, the whole nine. He was a good detective, just young and inexperienced. Hank stopped in front of the red head’s desk, startling the other man who looked up at Hank with wide eyes,

“Lieutenant?” He asked. Hank pointed at him, which in hindsight, was unnecessary,

“Starting immediately you’re my partner, whenever I leave, you follow.” He said. Kavanagh couldn’t stop himself from looking behind the Lieutenant to Connor then back to the Lieutenant,

“Ok…” Was all he managed in his confusion. Hank didn’t wait for any further reply, he returned to his desk and made himself look busy. He could see Connor looking at him from his peripherals, then he heard Fowler’s door open.

“Connor.” The Captain called and Connor’s gaze was redirected, “C’mere a sec.” Connor rose from his chair and walked around the desk. Hank waited til he heard the door close before he turned his chair to look at Connor. The Android’s posture betrayed nothing, and everything. To any other human here Connor looked the same he always did, stiff and rigid, a posture that was still pretty common for most Androids. To Hank, it was like he was looking at a completely different person, an impostor with the appearance of his partner. Well…former partner.

 

Connor stood within the Captain’s office and waited for the other man to take his seat. Fowler regarded Connor with a look a slight concern, searching the Android’s features for some tale-tell sign that would enlighten him to whatever was going on between Hank and Connor.

“It would seem the Lieutenant wants a new partner.” Jeffrey said. Connor gave no outward reaction, but internally he felt that guilt twist painfully in his chest.

“I see.” He replied. Fowler raised an eyebrow,

“Do you have any objections to that?” He asked. Of course Connor did, he still thought of Hank as an ally, his first and only partner up til that point, his…his best friend, and this action set in motion by Hank was nothing short of painful. But Connor had caused this, he was well aware. All he could hope now was this could be another stepping stone for Hank to move past his feelings for Connor.

“No.” He told the Captain. The older man didn’t look convinced,

“Connor, is there something you’d like to tell me? Something we need to talk about?” He tried.

“No, sir.” Connor said, because what else could he say? This was way into the territory of personal and not at all something you tell your boss about. Fowler nodded and there was a strange look of sadness on his face, almost like sympathy, like he somehow knew more of what was going on then he let known and he felt bad for Connor.

“Hank mentioned that you don’t live at his place anymore.” And at that Connor’s eyes went wide, why would Hank even mention that? “So I understand whatever is going on here is very personal between you two. It’s never a good thing to bring that kind of emotional baggage to work. So maybe it is better that you two have different partners now.” Fowler’s expression was like he was still waiting for Connor to open up, to object, to talk about whatever it was. Connor gave a curt nod,

“Yes, sir.” He said. Fowler frowned, accepting Connor’s obvious choice to not talk, and gestured to the door, letting Connor know he was free to leave.

Connor did just that, but didn’t return to his desk, at this very moment he couldn’t be near Hank, didn’t want Hank to look at him. Instead he beelined for the men’s bathroom. Connor immediately shut himself into a stall. He felt his anxiety peak into a full panic and several error messages came into his vision. He had no capacity to address them.

_“Can you please come home today?”_ Hank had said it, so effortlessly, like it had been Connor’s home, like it _is_ his home. Like it was natural. Like Connor belonged there, in that sentence, in that thought, in that house. Like Hank still thought this was a temporary situation that they were going to move past. And Connor’s response to that man’s sincerity had been to spit venom at him.

He just didn’t know what else to do. How to make Hank understand.

The strangest sensation over took him and he grasped at his chest, his artificial ribcage felt like it was in a vice and he gasped. His mind was in a flurry. He fell to his knees in front of the toilet and grasped either side of it to hold himself up, overwhelmed by a dizziness and feeling like he was burning at the same time. He was vaguely aware that he was hyperventilating, but it felt like it was happening to someone else, like he was having some sort of out-of-body experience. His warning system also informed him that he was close to overheating. Despite the logic that told him it was impossible for him to be having a _physical_ reaction to the turmoil in his mind, he couldn’t force it to stop. Everything in him was spiraling out of control.

A sudden coolness across his face brought him out of his panic. He swallowed and gently touched his cheek, his fingers came away wet and it struck him that he was crying. His vision focused on the toilet in front of him and he gasped aloud to see that he had cracked the porcelain under his palms. He now could see the damage warnings that had popped up, and sure enough, his fingers were slightly dented from the apparent pressure he’d applied down on the toilet seat. His systems were slowly cooling back down, but the panic was still there, slightly subdued but very much still a jar of bees in his chest. As much as he told himself that things will be better for Hank this way, it never made Connor feel any better. He wiped at his face with his hands and stood up. Crying was most certainly a unsettling experience, but maybe Connor actually felt a little better because of it. Some small, quiet voice in his mind wondered how much more of this will he be able to take.

 

Hank had watched Connor leave Fowler’s office and head straight into the men’s room. That in of itself was fucking alarming. Androids obviously don’t use the bathroom, and Connor has never once stepped foot into one unnecessarily before. Which left Hank to deduce that Connor was hiding, running. Hank counted the minutes before Connor finally emerged from the restroom, almost a full eight, and when he did step back unto the department floor his appearance gave nothing away at first. Connor came back to his desk to only grab his jacket that had been draped over the back of the desk chair, but it was long enough for Hank to take note of several things. First, the skin on the hand that came to grab the jacket was flickering in and out, a sign of damage. Hank narrowed his eyes. Second, his LED was a static red. And most surprising of all, his face was wet. Connor rapidly headed for the front gates before Hank could say anything at all about the three things he’d just noticed.

A wash of guilt came over Hank and he wanted to throw up. Great job, you piece of shit, mission accomplished. You hurt him. You made him cry. Now what? Hank wondered if it was too late to chase after Connor, to apologize, beg even. To fix it. He didn’t want their relationship to be irreversible. He wasn’t given the chance though as a sudden call came through, an Android had just been attacked. Connor had just run out of the office and Hank was the only other resident “Android expert”, so he jumped in his car and headed to the scene. Of course Kavanagh had come along, as instructed, and Hank immediately decided he hated this kid in his car. The ginger talked way too much and his voice wasn’t nearly as pleasant as Connor’s. This only made Hank crave to hear Connor’s voice even more, made his loneliness twist painfully into his side. He sighed loudly as he pulled the car over, but Kavanagh didn’t seem to notice.

There was a small crowd around the scene. Local security had taped the area off. Reporters were already shoving a camera in Hank’s face. He put his hand up,

“Fuck outta my way. Jesus!” He crossed the digital, yellow tape to finally get a look at what had happened. There was a single body on the sidewalk. The most obvious thing to note was its’ face, which was indistinguishable. Hank squatted down near the figures head to get a closer look. The bright blue of Thirium pooled around his feet and when he looked down he was looking into the cavity of the Android’s head. It’s eyes, mouth, and cheeks were gone, only a slight outline of the nose and teeth were there. But what was most disturbing was _how_ they were gone. Hank had seen a similar thing done to a human’s face before, years ago, and this damage seemed to have the same signs. Acid. Some piece of shit had thrown acid in this poor Android’s face. Hank had no idea what kind of strong, corrosive acid could eat through an Android’s head, but Connor would know. Hank pulled his phone from his pocket and started taking pictures.

“Holy shit.” Kavanagh whispered from above Hank’s shoulder.

“Yeah.” Hank agreed. He grunted as he pushed himself upright again, “Have the other officers get whatever samples they can.” The ginger nodded and turned to talk to two other officers that had just arrived. Hank walked around slowly, looking for signs of a struggle, of a get away, of anything. This was a small side street, not a lot of traffic, but it was still daylight so someone might have seen something. He kept that in mind as he walked around the side of a near by building, still searching for more evidence. It didn’t look like anyone had been this way in a while so he turned around and headed back to the street. There were skid marks on the asphalt, but Hank couldn’t tell at first glance if they were fresh or not. Without thinking he turned around to look for his partner,

“Hey Con-“ He snapped his mouth shut and his earlier guilt returned. No one had heard him, so he turned back around and resumed taking photos like it hadn’t happened. Hopefully it would be enough to find the car, if it had been involved. He made a call to Cyberlife about the body and told Kavanagh stay there till it got picked up, then went back to the station to print the photos for evidence. A quick inquiry made as he walked through the front gates told him that Connor hadn’t returned. So Hank probably won’t be seeing him again until tomorrow.

He went home alone again that night and sat up on the couch drinking beer with Sumo. Well, Sumo wasn’t drinking, but he was still great company. Some dumb sappy part of his brain had convinced himself to watch Bladerunner, so there he sat wallowing in his misery and watching Rachael cry on screen. Funny how much he loved this movie as a kid, but at the time hadn’t even conceived that he’d be seeing human-like Androids in his lifetime. Of course, as a kid he’d only thought Harrison Ford was a badass. Now, after everything he’s been through with the Androids he finds himself sympathizing with the Replicants. Who’s to say who is and isn’t human, anyways? What makes someone human? A soul? Hank paused his dark train of thought to take another sip of his beer. Who says Android’s don’t have souls? He needed to stop himself, he was already in a bad mindset and having an existential crisis on behalf of Androids wasn’t gonna help. He suddenly shut the TV off, effectively startling Sumo who was apparently very into it, and then rose to his feet. He downed the rest of the beer and resigned to take a cold shower. He’d only allowed himself one beer. There were several things Hank had tried to maintain after Connor had left, two of them being his work out routine and his sobriety. He told himself it was because it was healthier for him, but truly some part of him believed these things would somehow help him get Connor to come back.

Come back to what, though? What exactly was it Hank thought he’d provided that Connor would even miss? Connor had stayed in his house consecutively for little less than a month. What did Hank think he had that Connor would want to return to? Hank groaned angrily at himself as the cold water was running over him. Damnit, this distraction clearly wasn’t working. What he really wanted was to just call Connor and force him to listen. But then, listen to what, huh? What exactly was Hank gonna say? Did he think he could reprimand Connor like a rebellious teenager? Tell him to knock this off and come home immediately? No. Nor could he force Connor to open up and talk to him. Hank sighed. He had a small idea of what had set all this off, what had been the beginning of Connor’s strange personality swap, and if he was honest with himself he knew exactly what night it had started. The first night he’d asked Connor to stay. Before he’d even asked, Connor had caught Hank staring at him, and something about Connor had changed in that instant. And Hank had read it wrong, that’s the truth. Like the stupid, lonely, old **_human_** that he was, he had seen that look on Connor’s face and mistook it for interest. Turns out, it had been fear and it took Hank way too damn long to figure that out and now he’s fucked up this friendship. He didn’t care about his stupid feelings, he just wanted his friend back. He didn’t want to permanently lose Connor completely. But whether or not things could go back to being the way they were was impossible to know right now.

He finally climbed out of the shower and got himself ready for bed. Sumo wanted a walk one more time, so he stepped into his house slippers and took the big dog outside. The temperature was nice at night, the weather now shifting into summer, which wasn’t exactly a cheerful prospect for Hank, but at least he could enjoy it right now. His mind kept wanting to wander back to Connor, to alternatives and possible solutions, to things he could say when they see each other tomorrow, but he also had an Android homicide to investigate tomorrow and he needed his sleep. So he turned on some quiet music in his room and cuddled Sumo and forced his brain to be quiet. 

 

The next morning started off like karma was trying to ruin his fucking day. He’d gotten up and ready like usual; walked Sumo, drank coffee, ate some semblance of breakfast, then got in his car. Hank had barely pulled out of the drive way when the vehicle had suddenly made an alarming noise and stopped moving. With a groan, he turned off the ignition and popped the hood. He stood there and glowered at the car’s insides like they were just gonna reveal the problem to him. Fuck this, he thought, he’s no car mechanic. So he called himself a cab and left his car where it was. Once he got to the office he could call someone to tow it. This was probably gonna cost him a fortune. Great. There was a fair amount of bustle in the department, which lead him to believe something had just happened and he was walking in on it. Sure enough, Kavanagh answered his question without prompt.

“Morning Lieutenant!” Hank winced, this kid was way too loud for the fact that Hank had just woke up, “Sorry.” The ginger dropped his voice in consideration, “Uhh, another Android was just attacked. Captain Fowler already sent Sarge and asked if we’d go assist since we are investigating the first attack.” He rambled on as Hank was nodding.

“Great.” He grumbled. He wasn’t at all prepared to have to immediately go to work, let alone immediately face Connor after yesterday. He trudged over to his desk,

“It can wait a minute. I gotta call someone to get my fucking car.” He told Kavanagh. The kid looked overly interested,

“Oh, what happened?” He asked. Hank glared at him from under his lashes, holding his phone to his ear already,

“It broke down, genius. Now fuck off.” He waved a hand at the young man who sheepishly walked away.

 

Connor had already looked over all the evidence from the previous days’ attack before the call about the second one came in that morning. He was extremely disturbed by the prospect that someone was killing Androids with acid. Not only would an acid of that caliber be extremely illegal, but also hard to acquire. That in itself could narrow down suspects though. Connor was both relieved and sad to arrive at the scene and see that the second victim wasn’t dead. He was seated on the ground with a few bystanders around him, seemingly offering comfort. Connor approached the other Android to see that only half his face had been hit, his eye was destroyed and the damage to the rest of his face would most likely be irreparable. Connor knelt down to be eye level with him and smiled,

“Hi. My name is Connor.” He said. The other looked up at him, the anger and pain was so palatable in the Android’s one remaining eye that Connor felt it sink into him like a weight.

“I know where he went.” Was all the other said before holding out his arm to Connor. Connor nodded and placed his arm against the victim’s. Their interface was short, the information Connor needed was at the forefront of the other’s mind, and when Connor pulled his arm back there were tears now running down the other’s ruined face.

“He’s one of us.” He whispered before dropping his head unto his knees, “Why would he do this to his own kind?” Connor had no answer for him, so he rose to his feet and turned to address the other officers he had with him. He told one of them to take the victim to the nearest Cyberlife center so they could repair whatever they could, and the other officer went with Connor to look for this attacker. The memory the victim had shared with Connor revealed that the assailant was alone and on foot. He’d run off immediately after throwing the acid, most likely not realizing that the corrosive substance hadn’t hit both the victim’s eyes. So Connor followed the direction the other had ran. This area of town was mostly under construction, so there were plenty of places he could have hid.

Connor thought there’d be no hope of chasing this guy now when suddenly his enhanced vision caught sight of something on the ground ahead of him. A instantaneous analysis revealed it to be a mixture of hydrochloric acid, pure grade acetone, and a few other volatile chemicals. That would make it potent in it’s ability to dissolve plastics. Connor was instantly enraged, not only was it another Android doing this, but he’d gone all out to make sure this substance would be deadly to his own kind. Finding the few drops on the ground was good, this told Connor more than just the ingredients of the acid, but also that this guy was sloppy. They always were though, weren’t they? Connor scanned the surrounding ground and buildings for more of the substance. He motioned for the other officer to follow closely as they stepped around construction equipment and between another alleyway. Connor saw more acid on the ground and his nerves lit up. Just as he began to wonder if this attacker had accidentally damaged himself with his own substance they rounded a corner to see figure, shrouded in a hoodie, trying to jump for a fire escape ladder. Connor froze and drew his weapon, the other office did the same. Connor raised the gun,

“Freeze!” He commanded and the figure did exactly that. Their eyes locked. Even from the distance Connor could see there was something wrong with the other’s leg, maybe he had actually gotten the acid on himself. Good, Connor thought. As he stepped closer, the other suddenly bolted behind the building.

“Shit!” Connor took off. Apparently his leg wasn’t _that_ damaged. The only upper hand Connor had here was that the other seemingly couldn’t jump and was having a hard time climbing over shit in his way. Connor fired a shot at him when he’d thought there was a clear hit, but it missed and the chase continued. Connor halted and pressed his back against a wall, he’d lost sight of the other. His fellow officer came up behind him, which was impressive, since he was human and Connor hadn’t expected him to keep up. Connor motioned for him to stay down, and then he peered around the corner. There were fresh spatters of thirium, so whatever damage the attacker had done to himself was getting worse, likely do to with the running. Connor stepped out from behind the wall, scanning every inch of the area, but seeing nothing. Some part of his mind wondered if he could one day upgrade his visions’ abilities to make detecting other Androids easier. The assailant had ran towards the more heavy construction zone, so there was no worry of pedestrians. Just industrial equipment, employee trailers, and a half-constructed, seemingly governmental, building barred off by an electric fence. Connor felt certain the other hadn’t gotten far and wasn’t picking up sounds of movement. The frustration of chasing another Android was that if he found a good hiding spot he could stay there indefinitely, he wouldn’t get tired or hungry. Though the thirium bleed could pose a problem for him.

Ultimately it didn’t matter if Connor didn’t find him immediately, because this area would soon be swarming with other officers searching for the attacker. Just as Connor considered halting his hunt to wait for said back-up he heard the sounds of liquid dripping upon the ground, off to his right. He had no idea if this assailant had a weapon, or more acid, but he was hoping not. He followed the sound of the noise around one of the temporary trailers set-up on site for construction workers. He creeped as slowly as he could and sure enough the sound got louder. Just as he got to the corner of the metal trailer, motion came at him, the other Android had found a metal bar and swung it with whatever strength he had left at Connor’s head. Connor ducked and the bar went into the trailer’s flimsy aluminum exterior. Connor was still too close to the other and the attacker lunged forward. Connor fired but not before being shoved forcefully backward. He couldn’t catch himself in time and he hit the fence.

Connor’s entire body lit up with a sensation he would probably describe as “pain”, and with having no control over it, he screamed. It had only lasted a moment, then suddenly he was on his hands and knees, looking at the dirt. All kinds of warnings and errors were going off. He’d just been fried by industrial, electric fence. He couldn’t think straight. He was vaguely aware of his partner, fuzzy in his vision, trying to talk to him. The assailant was face down on the ground a few feet from them. Connor felt his systems failing and everything still hurt. He couldn’t move. Two people came to mind, the first naturally being Hank and whether Connor was ever going to see him again now, the second being Markus, his only hope at this moment. He dialed Markus’s home, thankful that he was still functional enough for that. Markus picked up just as Connor’s arms gave out under him and his face hit the dirt.

“Connor?” The voice sounded distorted in Connor’s head.

“Markus…” Connor’s voice was significantly more fucked up sounding, “I need help…” He transmitted his location, hoping it actually went through. He barely heard Markus reply,

“I’m on my way! Hang on!” Then everything went black.

 

Hank had been arguing with a car mechanic for about forty-five minutes now. His partner, the pouty ginger, continued to sit near by waiting for the Lieutenant to get off the phone so they could head to the newest crime scene. In one ear Hank heard the mechanic spitting out a list of everything wrong with his old car, and in the other he heard an officer telling Kavanagh that the second Android had been found alive. Good, that meant Connor could question him and hopefully find out who was doing this. Just as Hank was about to start yelling back at the mechanic another officer came running through the gates to halt in the hall and stare directly at Hank. The officer was dirty, disheveled, and most definitely panicked. The look in his eyes made Hank’s stomach sink and he suddenly put his phone down and stood up. 

“Lieutenant…” The man was still panting, “Sarge…he…” At this point everyone in the office was silently watching this man, waiting for him to speak. Hank stepped closer to him. Panic began to unfurl in Hank’s chest and all he could think was ‘ _No_. No no no. Not again.’ The younger officer seemed to catch his breath,

“He got hurt.” He finally spat out and Hank lunged forward, grabbing him by the shoulders,

“How? Where!?” Of all days for his car to break down, this really was karma, wasn’t it?

“We chased the perp!” The other man’s voice cracked, “Connor caught him but got pushed into the electric fence!” Hank felt the life drain out of him, like all of his organs just fell through the floor, he fought to keep his breathing even,

“Where is he?” It came out a weak whisper, his voice loosing all power behind it. The other man started shaking his head, like he was confused and couldn’t remember,

“Those…those other Androids came to get him…” He said, “The one that was on the the TV!” _Markus._ Hank bolted for the door, not wasting another second. He hit the parking lot when he remembered again that he didn’t have his car,

“Fuck!” He cursed out loud then proceeded to take one of the police cruisers. He hadn’t actually been to the late Carl Manfred’s mansion before, but he knew the address from Connor, so he punched it into the dashboard computer and even threw on the sirens to get traffic out of his. He might get in trouble for that, but right now all he could think about was Connor. Hank’s heart felt like it was gonna explode in his chest…this couldn’t be happening. All he’d wanted to do when he saw Connor today was apologize and now he may not be getting that chance. Damnit! If his stupid car hadn't broke down! If he'd been at work on time! No, he couldn’t think like that. Androids were slightly were durable than humans when it came to injury, so there could be hope that Connor’s fine. The morbid part of Hank’s mind told him nobody is fine after being electrocuted by a high voltage fence, but he shook it away.

It took him almost exactly thirty minutes to reach the mansion, much longer than he liked to think about. He practically ran to the front door, and didn’t even bother with the bell, he just started pounding it with his fist. He couldn’t breath, a combination of exertion and panic. The door swung open wide and there stood the Android everybody would recognize these days. Dark skin, shaved head, heterochromic eyes. Markus. Hank was holding on to the door frame, panting, as Markus looked him up and down once.

“Lieutenant Anderson.” He said by way of greeting. Hank just nodded. Markus stepped back and allowed Hank inside.

“Where is he?” He rasped, the door closed behind him. Markus regarded him with a sad expression,

“I don’t think-“ Hank cut him off, grabbing him by the collar.

“Where is he?!” He shouted. Hank hadn’t meant to attack Markus in his own home, but his guilt and panic were getting the best of him and all he wanted was to see Connor. Despite his outburst, Markus didn’t so much as even react, that could be expected from someone who’d been through as much as him.

“I don’t think that is a good idea.” He continued, his voice was even, soft and soothing. Hank’s shouting had certainly alarmed the rest of the house though, because suddenly there was a very angry and violent looking red-haired, female Android standing off to the side, behind Markus. She stared Hank down like she could maul him with her bare teeth. Hank let out a sigh and let go of Markus’s shirt, offering him a gently pat on the chest,

“I’m sorry.” His voice was small and broken and he rubbed at his face, “Please…” Markus looked sad again, his brow pulled down,

“I know.” He said and placed a gentle hand on Hank’s upper arm, “He’s not in good condition, but I think we can save him. It’ll just take time.” He explained. Hank’s expression was pleading,

“Can I just see him?” He asked. Markus’s frown deepened,

“He…” He seemed to be searching for the right words, “…doesn’t look good. A sight like that could only be more alarming and…traumatizing…for you.” But even as he said this Markus could tell from the look in Hank’s eyes that he wasn’t going to let this go. The older human was clearly on the verge of tears, he seemed to choke on his own voice, at a loss of words. Markus slowly nodded.

“Ok.” He said and gently turned to lead Hank further into the house. The angry red-head apparently didn’t like that and stood in their way,

“Markus!” She stage whispered, “You can’t just bring this human down there. What if Connor doesn’t want him here?” Markus gently moved her aside with a single hand,

“It’s alright, North. Connor trusts this man, I don’t think we have anything to worry about.” He replied. Hank was led through a hall and down a set of concrete stairs into what could be described as a large basement that had been converted into a lab. There was tech everywhere, none of which Hank could identify, but it seemed like Markus had turned his basement into a makeshift Cyberlife center. That would make sense though, if he was bringing Androids here to help or repair in emergency. As they came into the main open area there were a few couches and a coffee table, much like a waiting room, and seated on one of the couches was another Android, of darker complexion than Markus. Said Android fixed Hank with a confused and aggravated expression before turning his attention back to what was in front of him. Hank turned his head to follow the other’s gaze.

There was a lifeless figure on its’ knees on the floor, its’ head hanging limply forward, face obscured. At first glanced, it just looked like an Android without it’s skin, and stripped of any clothes it had been wearing, but Hank knew it was Connor. There were handfuls of wires connected to him, one was very thick and heavy looking, secured to the base of his head and what looked to be a thirium IV was being fed into one of his arms. Hank looked around for a moment to see that an operating table had been shoved out of the way, most likely in a hurry, and a blond haired male Android was frantically typing over a large computer console. Markus went to stand beside the blond and they both began speaking quietly to each other. Hank slowly stepped closer to the figure on the floor. He could now see that Connor looked even more fucked up than he’d imagined. Connor’s skin, or chassis, was warped and cracked in thin vein-like lines down his back, arms, and around his chest. Evidence of the electrical damage that would most likely become permanent scars. Hank stood over Connor now and could see that his entire back was opened up, wires going to and from his interior. The others were silently watching him but Markus came to place a gentle hand upon the Lieutenant’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s difficult for humans to look at us like this.” He spoke softly. Hank was shaking his head slowly,

“Looking at him like this is hard because it reminds me of what my son looked like in the hospital as I watched him die.” He looked at Markus as the tears ran down into his beard, “Not because he’s an Android.” There were looks of surprise shared between the four others, but no one said anything else. Hank sank down unto the floor in front of Connor and softly took one of Connor’s hands between both of his. Looking into his face now there was no mistake that it was Connor. Even though Hank had never seen Connor without his synthetic skin before, his facial features were exactly the same. Hank was slightly more alarmed by just how still Connor was, cold and lifeless, the plastic shine of his face wasn’t helping. The only indication that he was still alive was the eerie red glow of the thirium pump, slowly fading in and out, from a clear panel on his chest. Hank reached up to run the back of his knuckles over Connor’s smooth cheek,

“I wanted to apologize to him today.” He spoke just barely above a whisper, “I was an asshole yesterday…” A sob escaped and he swallowed the knot in his throat. He heard Markus hum an acknowledgement somewhere behind him,

“That would explain his stress levels yesterday.” He said thoughtfully. Hank turned his head to look up and Markus, “Connor came home from work strangely early yesterday and wouldn’t speak to anyone, just shut himself into his room. His stress levels had been dangerously high. I was beginning to really worry.” He continued.

“Worry…?” Hank wondered. The blond behind Markus was the one to give Hank that sad and sympathetic expression this time.

“When an Android’s stress reaches a certain level…the likelihood of self-destruction becomes imminent.” Markus explained calmly, “Despite our best efforts to help integrate and teach our kind on how to cope with extreme emotions, it still proves to be…unstable.” Hank looked back at Connor’s still face. _Self-destruction?_ Hank recalled Connor explaining that very same thing back during their first deviant case together, about how Android’s kill themselves when they can’t take the emotional stress anymore. Hank felt his heart sinking even deeper and more tears found their way out. Had he done this to Connor? Brought him to a breaking point? Was Connor really on the verge of killing himself? Because of Hank?

“It’s my fault, isn’t it?” He asked out loud. Markus came to kneel beside Hank and looked him right in the eyes. He was silent for a moment, but in that moment Hank could finally understand why this being had the reputation he did. Something like a presence rolled off of Markus, it was calming and intimidating all at the same time, he made you feel like he was seeing through you, seeing everything there was to know about you, but it didn’t make you feel small or insignificant. No, more like the opposite, like he was understanding you in ways you’ll never understand yourself. Some part of Hank found it hard to believe he was looking at the eyes of a machine and not some sort of enlightened deity.

“Yes.” Markus finally said, “But not for the reasons you think.” Hank only felt even more confused and got the impression that Markus wasn’t gonna elaborate on that. He gently cleared his throat,

“How…how long?” He asked instead. Markus turned to look at the blond still standing over the computer console.

“Several hours at the least.” The blond's face scrunched up with concern, “I’m trying to preserve his programming while repairing the electrical damage. Most his bio components suffered minimal damage, but…” He paused to look at Connor, “His central…” He gestured vaguely, most likely not sure how to explain it in a way Hank would understand, “His spine suffered the most.” He finally said. Markus looked back at Hank,

“Think of it like nerve damage.” He said. Hank nodded, not at all feeling better about it.

“What’s the worst possible outcome here?” He needed to know, to at least prepare himself mentally. Markus understood,

“An irreparable paralysis, most likely.” He answered. Hank squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. Markus patted his shoulder and stood up, “Let me get you a drink.” He offered his hand to Hank and Hank took it. Yeah, a drink sounded great. They returned to the first floor and into a small kitchen where Markus pulled out a bottle of scotch and a single glass.

“This is what’s left of Carl’s favorite scotch.” He spoke as he poured some into the glass for Hank, “There’s no one else here to drink it anymore, so I know he won’t mind.” He smiled as he handed the glass to Hank and Hank realized that’s the first smile he’s seen a smile on this guy’s face. Hank tried to return the expression, raising the glass slightly in Markus’s direction,

“Thank you.” He took a swig of it. Scotch wasn’t his drink of choice, but it was nice in that moment.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you’d like to be here, with him.” Markus said. Hank finished his drink,

“No, it’s alright. I have a dog at home who needs me.” He explained and Markus nodded,

“Sumo, right?” Hank looked a little surprised and Markus smiled again, “Connor talks a lot about you.”

“Really?” He sounded like he only mildly believed that. Markus gently took the empty glass from Hank,

“Don’t confuse his behavior, Lieutenant. He cares deeply for you. He just can’t seem to come to terms with it. I think he’s just scared.” Hank’s features scrunched up in frustration,

“Scared of what? Me?” He asked. Markus shrugged softly,

“Maybe, in a way. You have to understand, especially for an Android of Connor’s caliber, emotions are the one obstacle that he can’t predict and analyze and make sense of, that alone sows fear and uncertainty. Uncertainty in himself, and in you.” Hank huffed, still frustrated but he understood what Markus was saying,

“Yeah. I figured as much. But how do I get through to him? He doesn’t even want to try to talk, or even just listen to me.” Hank felt a little guilty to be unloading this on Markus, but the other didn’t really seem to mind.

“I know, I can’t get him to talk to me about it either. I’m not sure what we can do. He’ll just have to come to a point of realization for himself.” Hank felt comforted knowing he wasn’t the only one worrying about Connor, and at least he knew that when Connor wasn’t with him he was with good friends like Markus. Hank took another deep breath,

“Do you think…” He paused, not really wanting to say it aloud, “That he’s gonna be ok?” He wanted Markus’s honest answer, not just a hopeful idea.

“Yes.” He replied, “He’s in good hands. It may take a little while, and he may have some permanent damage, but I’m sure he’s gonna be fine.” Hank felt a little more at ease with that knowledge. With that Markus led him to the door and they said goodbye,

“I’ll call you when we’re ready to try and wake him.” Markus said and Hank nodded,

“Thank you.” The front door closed and Hank headed down the walkway back to the street. He groaned at the sight of the police cruiser, once again reminded about his broke down car. Well, it wasn't too late in the day to call the mechanic back, so he'll do that when he gets home. He had no intention of going back into work and he texted Jeffrey to inform him of such. Jeffrey responded by asking of Connor's condition and Hank replied by saying they don't know for sure. 

He knew damn well he wasn’t gonna get much sleep tonight, the image of Connor’s lifeless form still at the forefront of his mind. He fed and walked Sumo, then for the first time in weeks now he got his whiskey down from the cupboard. He liked to think he’d been through enough today to justify a few more drinks. All he hoped was that he’d be able see Connor alive and well tomorrow. They’d get past all this, he knew, he had to believe it. Hank sank into the couch with his whiskey and flicked the TV on, only to have Bladerunner resume from last night. He sighed and let it play.

He ended up passing out on the couch sometime after pouring a third drink.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! And find me on Twitter: @MaghnusKasady I also draw!


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